


one way or another

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Crossdressing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-18 07:32:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12383709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Kitayama is all dressed up with nowhere to go, so they come to him.





	one way or another

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for kink bingo (crossdressing)

“Yamapi’s are bigger,” Tamamori assesses as he levels Kitayama’s rack. “I mean, yours are decent enough, I guess. At least you don’t need to stuff.”

Angrily fluttering his false red eyelashes with his hair pinned back, Kitayama looks kind of cute when he glares, but then he grabs his crotch right through his slinky red dress. “ _This_ is bigger than Yamapi’s.”

Tamamori tsks. “That’s not very ladylike, Hiroko. What would Gaya say if he saw you right now?”

“I don’t give a fuck what he would say,” Kitayama snarls, and Tamamori hides a smile because that just makes him look cuter. “I don’t see why I have to dress like this just so he can pretend he’s straight.”

“No amount of cleavage can make him straight,” Tamamori replies. “We’re doing it to make him lose his shit, remember? We all saw the way he looked at you at the PV shoot.”

“Well, to be fair, I _am_ hot,” Kitayama points out.

Tamamori starts to argue, but then he makes the mistake of looking down at Kitayama’s heavily kohl-rimmed eyes and loses his train of thought. “Yeah you are.”

“Tama-chan?” Kitayama asks, smirking as he bites down on his pink-glossed lip and sends Tamamori’s libido through the roof. “Really? I didn’t think you were into this.”

“You’re like my favorite thing about girls combined with my favorite thing about boys,” Tamamori says a bit dreamily, leaning forward to trail his fingers across Kitayama’s pink sparkly cheeks. It’s actual rouge, but Tamamori can fool himself into thinking that it’s a real blush.

“What about Miyacchi?” Kitayama asks, and Tamamori rolls his eyes.

“He doesn’t _own_ me,” Tamamori huffs. “And besides, we have an eyeliner clause.”

That seems to be good enough for Kitayama, who accosts Tamamori’s mouth and doesn’t bother with pleasantries before licking past Tamamori’s lips. Kissing back just as fiercely, Tamamori leans down so that Kitayama doesn’t have to stretch up so far even in his heels, and Tamamori finds an odd satisfaction in slipping his hands up Kitayama’s dress to grab his ass. It’s bare, but then he travels further up to feel a thin strip of fabric and groans into Kitayama’s mouth.

“You went all out, didn’t you?” Tamamori hisses against Kitayama’s lips, tasting cherries as he heaves Kitayama up onto the bathroom counter for more leverage. His fingers trail down Kitayama’s smooth thighs until they meet the hem of his stockings, taking a second to feel the tiny satin bows before moving back up the insides.

“I don’t do anything half-assed,” Kitayama replies, and Tamamori thinks that’s an interesting choice of words.

Kitayama’s thighs fall open and he moans into Tamamori’s mouth, sucking on his tongue as he grabs Tamamori’s wrists to urge them higher. Tamamori just laughs and escapes his grip, purposely bypassing the bulge in his thong and continuing to the backs of his thighs, groping the muscles that flex under his touch. Grunting in annoyance, Kitayama shoves down on Tamamori’s shoulders until the younger man is kneeling before him, then grabs Tamamori’s hair firmly and shoves his head under his dress.

The appeal of dresses becomes greatly appreciated by Tamamori as all he has to do is move a bit of fabric aside to unleash Kitayama’s cock, which nearly hits him in the face as it juts out and swells even more. He’s nowhere near as big as Yamapi, but Tamamori thinks to keep that comment to himself as he opens his mouth and easily takes Kitayama past his lips. Kitayama’s low groan that is not in any way feminine reverberates through both of their bodies as he lifts his legs to drape over Tamamori’s shoulders, Tamamori’s hands returning to his thighs.

Which is naturally how Fujigaya finds them, though Tamamori has to imagine what his face looks like as Kitayama’s front door opens and Fujigaya stomps down the hall, interrupting himself mid-bitch. “I’m here, you selfish asshole, because I have nothing better to do than cater to your every—fuck me.”

“Figured you’d want it the other way, but whatever,” Kitayama replies, sounding a bit breathless as he twists one hand into Tamamori’s hair.

“What the…why are you…wow,” Fujigaya finally decides on, and Tamamori picks that moment to pull off despite Kitayama’s whine. Fujigaya looks a mixture of traumatized and turned on, and Tamamori wipes his mouth as he stands up, yanks Kitayama down from the counter, and shoves him towards Fujigaya.

Fujigaya catches him, staring down at Kitayama’s lined eyes and slightly smudged lip gloss, and Tamamori can almost see the general progression of arousal that overcomes Fujigaya’s hormones. Kitayama lifts his gelled nails to Fujigaya’s face, trailing them along his jaw as Fujigaya visibly shivers under the touch. “Do you like it, Taisuke?”

“This is for me?” Fujigaya gasps, his hands resting on Kitayama’s hips a bit possessively as he leans back enough to take in the whole ensemble.

“Don’t say I never do anything nice for you,” Kitayama mutters, then pulls Fujigaya into his mouth. His hand spikes up into Fujigaya’s hair, holding his head right where it is, but from the looks of things Fujigaya hadn’t considered pulling away for one second. He _devours_ Kitayama where he stands and Tamamori feels proud, both of his feminizing skills as well as his attraction deduction radar.

He leans back against the wall in the hallway with absolutely no intentions on leaving even as Fujigaya yanks Kitayama flush against him like he plans on taking him standing up. Fujigaya’s a sight to be seen in the heat of passion, very ‘act now and think later’ as a hand slips under Kitayama’s dress and he groans at the same discovery that had broken Tamamori.

“Bed,” Fujigaya demands, his voice low and demanding as Kitayama basically hops into his arms and lets Fujigaya carry him unsteadily across the hall to his bedroom.

They make it until Fujigaya throws Kitayama down onto his own bed before Kitayama notices that Tamamori’s still there. “You going to watch?”

Tamamori shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

That smirk looks so much more devilish on Kitayama’s sparkly painted face, at least until Fujigaya reclaims his mouth and Kitayama’s legs spread once more, this time for Fujigaya’s prying hands. Tamamori plops down in Kitayama’s vanity chair that seems to be strategically positioned so that he can see _everything_ , including Fujigaya’s fingers slipping under Kitayama’s thong after Kitayama throws a tube of lubrication at his head. Kitayama arches beautifully and Fujigaya drops his mouth to Kitayama’s neck, groaning into Kitayama’s skin as he ruts against a bare thigh.

It all happens so fast, and each moan and shudder from either of them reminds Tamamori what he’s _not_ feeling right now. His own hand finds the fly of his pants and squeezes, hissing at the friction and suddenly Kitayama writhing on his bed in a dress and that goddamn eyeliner is incredibly hot. He almost looks like a real girl whom Fujigaya’s about to stick it to, one hand fumbling with the fastenings of his pants while the other works Kitayama open.

“Mitsu,” Fujigaya gasps, and Kitayama whines in response as they appear to have a conversation with just movements and small noises. Then Kitayama jerks and moans out loud, hips rocking back against Fujigaya’s fingers, and Fujigaya answers with a low groan as he rolls on a condom.

It’s Kitayama who smacks Fujigaya’s fingers out of the way and grabs Fujigaya by the collar, which is promptly pulled over his head because only these two would wait until they were already having sex to undress each other. Tamamori watches Fujigaya’s cock disappear into Kitayama’s body and from there on they move together, Fujigaya’s breaths audible while moans mix in with each of Kitayama’s exhales. Fujigaya alternates between kissing Kitayama and panting into his neck, clinging to him with both hands on his ass to spread him open even more as he snaps his hips into him.

Tamamori’s pants are open now, his own length in his hand that lazily strokes himself in time with their rhythm. At one point Kitayama glances over and locks eyes with him, pushing up against Fujigaya even faster as Tamamori squeezes himself harder.

“Taisuke,” Kitayama whispers, his voice low and raspy and completely out of place in that outfit. “Turn me around.”

“Huh?” Fujigaya asks, wholly distracted as his body doesn’t stop to comprehend mere words.

Kitayama has to actively push him back, but then he’s rolling onto his hands and knees facing Tamamori and even in his mid-coital haze Fujigaya figures it out well enough, draping himself over Kitayama’s back and pushing in even harder and likely deeper at this angle. Kitayama’s face is a sight straight out of a porno, only it’s someone Tamamori knows personally getting fucked within an inch of his life and Tamamori can’t keep his eyes off of him, red lashes splaying on his cheeks as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Tama-chan, come here.”

The order comes from Fujigaya and Tamamori jumps to his feet, uncaring to how his pants are shoved down around his knees as he approaches the bed. Fujigaya glances up at him conspiratorially before pulling Kitayama’s head up by his hair, his _real_ hair that’s just pinned back with sparkly barrettes like a girl’s short bob, and Kitayama lets out a loud noise that surprises them both; Tamamori is pretty sure they’re both filing this information away for future trysts.

“I want to see your pretty lips around his cock,” Fujigaya hisses in Kitayama’s ear, his tone even filthier than the words he speaks as he slows his thrusts down. “Tama-chan is gorgeous like this.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Tamamori replies, and they share a smirk as Tamamori kneels on the bed to make it easier for Kitayama to reach him. He expects Kitayama to argue, or at least pretend to, but he just opens his mouth and lets Tamamori feed him his length, taking him most of the way in and Tamamori can hardly keep his eyes open as Kitayama swallows around him, not wasting any time.

Then Fujigaya leans back enough to brace himself with one hand on the small of Kitayama’s back and sharply rocks into him, pushing him down far enough on Tamamori’s cock to have Tamamori sinking his hands into Kitayama’s hair, effectively messing up the barrettes. His main intention was to keep Kitayama from choking, but Kitayama seems to be able to handle it and thus Tamamori uses Kitayama’s hair to release his tension as he’s quickly brought to the edge by that mouth.

His eyes fall shut as he’s grabbed by the collar and pulled forward, soft lips pressing against his and a persistent tongue luring out his own, and Fujigaya’s breathing just as hard as he is, just as close. The faintest moan tickles his tongue and it’s all over, his fingers tightening in Kitayama’s hair in some semblance of a warning as he shudders and lets Kitayama’s mouth suck out his orgasm. Instantly Fujigaya drops out of their kiss, leaving Tamamori with his desperate attempts to breathe as Fujigaya rolls Kitayama back over and pounds into him, fusing their mouths together.

Tamamori just flops down next to them, rocking along with the mattress as the sight of Fujigaya tasting Tamamori on Kitayama’s tongue leaves him a little smug. He watches through very narrow-slitted lids as Fujigaya’s hand disappears under Kitayama’s dress once more, making Kitayama thrash beneath him as he muffles Kitayama’s shrill noises with his mouth. Tamamori can’t tell which one of them finishes first, but Fujigaya tears his mouth away to let out a moan that has Tamamori rocked by aftershocks while Kitayama’s desperate whimpers abruptly cease.

When Tamamori can function again, he leans over to swipe at the side of Kitayama’s mouth. “You look like a debauched whore. I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Good thing we’re staying in tonight,” Kitayama replies, looking up at them both from under his red eyelashes, and Tamamori thinks they’re going to need more eyeliner.


End file.
